


Knight's Birth

by KatrinaCastillo



Series: Knight of the Castle [1]
Category: Batman Begins (2005), Castle
Genre: Castle and Ra's have a father/son relationship going on, Castle is a BAMF, Five years before season one, Gen, Ninja Training, Pre-Series, Richard Castle is the Batman, and a good dad who wants to protect his daughter, or at least will be, the journey to becoming a hero has to start somewhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:49:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5297165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatrinaCastillo/pseuds/KatrinaCastillo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There's something you want to fight for, and you know what it is. It shows in your eyes." Richard Castle is given a choice - to sit back or to stand up and fight. And little does the author know that he's beginning his greatest story yet...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ducard's Offer

**Author's Note:**

> (Originally posted on Fanfiction.net)
> 
> Ok, let's get some background information settled. This story takes place about 5 years before Season 1 of Castle. Castle has already been divorced twice, Martha is living in the loft, and Alexis is about ten years old.
> 
> So, as this doesn't take place during Castle's time at the Twelfth, our favorite detectives are not featured. But I am planning to make a series out of this. So not to fear, Beckett and Co. will soon be here!
> 
> Just reminding you all that this fic is my baby... so no flames please?

They had taken his baby.

For those painful few days, Castle had been useless. He had been unable to protect his daughter, unable to save her on his own. What kind of a father was he, that he couldn't keep his only child safe? It was one the most basic parts of the job and he had failed.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Castle eyed his now sleeping daughter, curled up on the couch with her feet resting on his lap. She was only ten years old, for Pete's sake. Castle knew how close he had come to losing her... And with both the NYPD and FBI giving him the runaround, Castle attempted taking matters into his own hands. Even then, he failed.

No, Alexis would not be here with him if it weren't for the ninja-esque man, Henri Ducard. The man had saved both Rick and Alexis's lives, and asked for nothing in return. Instead, he vanished into the night, giving Castle neither a goodbye or an explanation.

However, Richard Castle was not a selfish man; the press could believe whatever they wanted. Ducard risked life and limb for his daughter, Castle had to repay him somehow. While not having much to go on, Castle did have one lead: a black stoned ring. And it was not just any stone. The stone was chiseled into the form of a demonic face.

At first, the sight of it freaked Castle out. Now, he was grateful for its uniqueness and it's (for the lack of a better term) gruesome appeal. But, at the moment, Castle was content to be with his daughter and simply watch over her.

He'd worry about Ducard later.

The next day found Castle in an isolated and understated café, one he used to frequent before becoming a best-selling author. Gina wanted to meet with him to discuss releasing a public statement about his daughter's ordeal. As much as Castle tried to keep Alexis away from the prying eyes of the press, sometimes it could not be helped.

He was nursing an iced tea, waiting for Gina, who was about 10 minutes late (something Castle was now concerned about. The woman was never late). Maybe she forgot the address to the place; after all, Gina did prefer high-end restaurants-

"Hello Mr. Rodgers." Rick looked up, surprise etched on his face.

"Ducard?" His voice went up an octave. Coughing to clear his throat, Castle motioned to the empty chair across from him. "What are you doing here? How did you..." His voice trailed off upon realizing something. "What did you call me?"

"Would you prefer to be called Mr. Castle?" Ducard questioned in turn, taking the seat casually. "I figured you would not mind if I called you by your birth name."

"I, uh, no. It's fine, you can-" He cleared his throat again. "It's fine."

Ducard smiled briefly before letting his eyes wander throughout the café. "How is Alexis?" he asked, surprising Castle (yet again) with the abrupt change in conversation. "An experience such as hers can be... distressing."

Castle nodded once. "She's fine," he assured, before looking at Ducard pointedly. "And I have you to thank for that."

Ducard gave that brief smile once more before seriousness came in its place. "Don't throw away your own credit, Mr. Rodgers. I may have finished the job, but you certainly started it." At this, Castle gave a look of confusion and disbelief mixed together. "It was your actions that got you as far as you did. You used every possible resource, contact, and manner that you had." Ducard leaned back in the chair. "It was only then that our attention was caught."

"Our attention?" Castle repeated with interest. Ducard displayed a smirk that threw Castle off.

"Of course. You did not believe I worked alone, did you?" At the lack of response, Ducard went on. "I represent a powerful man, by the name Ra's al Ghul; a man greatly feared by the criminal underworld. He shares your hatred of evil, your wish to serve true justice... He is the head of the League of Shadows."

Unintentionally, Castle let out a snort of laughter before he bit his lip. "I'm... I'm sorry, it's just that... the League of Shadows?" He shook his head and took a sip of his iced tea. "Sounds like a league of vigilantes."

This time, it was Ducard who shook his head. "There, you are incorrect Mr. Rodgers. A vigilante is a man, lost in a search for his own pleasure, his own purpose, which he will never find. He can be stopped, destroyed... take your pick." Castle nodded once slowly, understanding. "You see, man is frail. Weak, corruptible. No man can be steadfastly consistent."

Castle's eyes narrowed. "So how is this League of Shadows any different?" At this, Ducard gave an almost unnoticeable smile.

"If you make yourself more than just a man; if you devote yourself to an ideal... If they can't stop you, then you become something else entirely."

Castle paused. "Which is?"

Ducard leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "A legend, Mr. Rodgers." Seeing his message register in Castle's mind, Henri stood up from the chair. "There's something you want to fight for, and you know what it is. It shows in your eyes. If you want justice, if you want your daughter to grow up in a world where she can be safe, if you want to achieve something... all you have to do is find us."

"The choice is yours, Mr. Rodgers. But if you decide to go this path, I am obligated to warn you... there is no going back."

He turned to leave, but seemed to remember something. "And Mr. Rodgers, your ex-wife, Gina? There is no need to wait for her. She is currently in the Alps with her new beau."

Castle nodded, acknowledging the statement, and went back to his drink. Two seconds later, he realized that there was no way Ducard could have known that... unless he wrote the email bringing Castle here himself (purposefully?). Looking up to question the man, Castle's eyes widened upon seeing that Ducard has (magically?) disappeared. The little bell on the door hadn't even rung!

Well, that was cool.

That night, Castle sat in his office, pretending to write. In actuality, he was searching for any information he could find about the League of Shadows, Henri Ducard, and Ra's al Ghul. As expected, he was coming up with a boatload of nothing. Not to be deterred, Castle began searching for Ducard's ring as well. 'Demon ring' didn't work. Neither did 'demonic ring' or 'league of shadows ring' or 'black rock demon'.

It was only when Castle entered 'Demon's Head' that his search took a turn for the better. Google Images showed Ducard's ring in multiple angles, lighting, and locations (most, Castle noticed, were in a glass case). Clicking on an image, it brought Castle to a website for a Middle Eastern museum. Apparently a tourist attraction, since the sight was in English.

The Ring of the Demon, often referred to as the Demon's Head, is estimated to have been made around 1240 A.D. Legends surround the piece of jewelry, most stating that it's bearer had the key to immortality.

The ring went missing over fifty years ago.

'Interesting...'

It was the exact ring Castle was staring at that Ducard wore. And while he didn't particularly believe Ducard was immortal, it certainly added to his air of power and confidence...

Maybe one of the museum's curators could help with his search. Ra's al Ghul sounded like a Middle Eastern name, and if this ring originated in Arabia-

"Daddy?"

Castle's head shot up, eyes wide. Alexis stood at the door of his study, eyes red-rimmed and lips quivering. All thoughts of the League left him immediately, and Castle rushed to his daughter. Kneeling in front of her, Castle smiled softly, hoping to ease Alexis' mind.

"I had another nightmare," she whispered a moment later. Castle's heart broke.

"Oh Pumpkin." He gathered his daughter in his arms, carrying her to the loveseat in his office. Castle settled into the sofa, and let Alexis snuggle into his embrace. For the next ten minutes or so, he rubbed her back while she cried softly into his chest.

Guilt tore at him, shredding his heart and conscience. Here was his daughter; broken and frightened, unable to sleep at night. And Castle was preparing to fly halfway across the world to join some secret society, and he'd be gone for who knows how long. Realizing this, Castle pressed a kiss to her forehead. He wouldn't leave. He couldn't leave. He was a father first and foremost, and his daughter needed him.

"Daddy, I'm scared," his red-headed daughter whimpered. Castle pulled back to look her in the eye.

"It's ok to be scared Alexis, but you know you don't have to be afraid anymore, right?" He gripped her arms, trying to enforce this into her mind. "They can't hurt you anymore."

Alexis shook her head. "But what about all the other bad people? There are dangerous people everywhere... what if they hurt me? What if they hurt you?" Alexis buried her face into Rick's chest again, fresh tears falling from her eyes. "I'm not safe out there Daddy."

Oh. Oh.

To hear those words spill from his daughter's lips, to hear her fears tumble so innocently out of her heart... What father could bear it? How could he simply sit back and let his daughter grow up in this dangerous, fearful world?

"You want justice... You want your daughter to grow up in a world where she can be safe."

Ra's al Ghul... he shares your hatred of evil, your wish to serve true justice..."

"A vigilante is a man, lost... he can be stopped, destroyed..."

"If you make yourself more than just a man; if you devote yourself to an ideal... If they can't stop you, then you become something else entirely."

Castle noticed Alexis was now still, asleep on his chest. Ducard's words ran loud and clear in his mind, and Castle was now conflicted.

"A man greatly feared by the criminal underworld... the head of the League of Shadows."

"If you want to achieve something... all you have to do is find us."

He had the chance to do some good in the world, to make it better. But it required sacrifices he wasn't sure he could make.

"I'm not safe out there Daddy."

Castle shut his eyes.

He knew what he had to do.


	2. Ra's al Ghul

Castle looked up at the stone building before him, squinting against the bright sun. The taxi which had dropped him off was already out of sight, and left a cloud of dust behind. It was hot, but the writer was doing a fair job of ignoring it. He was too focused on the matter at hand; the museum's curator had agreed to meet with him, in about 10 minutes, to show him around and answer any questions. And luckily for Castle, the man spoke English.

Explaining to his mother, Martha, why he would be gone was hard. Saying goodbye to his little girl, even though it was only for a week, was even harder. But Castle pushed through it and got on a plane, flying out to the Middle East. Arabia, to be exact. To where the Demon's Head originated. Tightening his hold on his backpack, Castle let out a breath.

If he was going to find Ra's al Ghul, and his 'League of Shadows', he had to start somewhere.

Climbing up the steps, Castle entered the museum, noticing with subconscious relief that there was air conditioning. He barely had a chance to begin his search for the curator's office, when he heard his name being called out. Turning around with slight surprise, Castle saw a short and stubby Arabic man walk towards him. "Mister Castle?" he repeated, his accent heavy.

"Uh, yes," Castle nodded. "You must be Mister Masih."

The man only nodded, giving Castle a welcoming smile. "Welcome to Arabia. I trust you had no trouble finding your way here?"

"No trouble at all," Castle lied, remembering the very... explicit... words, one man had for him at the airport's taxi line. He followed Mister Masih down the hall, and they began making small talk.

"I can't thank you enough for agreeing to meet with me, Mr. Masih," Castle said at last, trying to steer the conversation to the subject he actually wanted to talk about. Mister Masih simply laughed.

"No trouble Mr. Castle. My wife and I are big fans of your books. To have you do research here is a big honor." Castle simply nodded. That was the reason he gave to his mother about why he was leaving. Book research. Of course, they both knew that he could simply call or find everything on the internet, but for some reason Martha wasn't being nosy. A bit uncharacteristic of her, but Castle was grateful all the same. "So what exactly did you want to know about?"

Deciding it was better to get to the point, Castle pulled out a folded piece of paper - a printed picture of the Demon's Head. And he did not miss the paleness that struck Masih's features when he saw the picture. "Your website said that the ring went missing about fifty years ago? Could you tell me about the theft?"

Masih shook his head. "All I'm sure of is that it was stolen, rather, retrieved... by its rightful owner... Ra's al Ghul." The Arabic man saw the flicker of recognition in Castle's eyes, and smiled ruefully. "You are not here to do research for a book, are you Mr. Castle?"

A few minutes later, the two men were in Masih's office, the door locked. "What is it you wish to know about Ra's al Ghul, Mr. Castle?" he questioned.

"How do I find him?" Castle asked, not at all surprised when Masih began to laugh.

"Mr. Castle, Ra's al Ghul is a myth."

"There are no records of that 'myth,'" Castle said simply, noticing Masih falter. "And didn't you just say that he took the ring?"

Masih waved a hand dismissively. "Mr. Castle, I run a museum. Encouraging myths and legends are a part of the job. It interests people and keeps them coming back."

Castle could see that the man was adamant, and did not believe that Ra's al Ghul was real. "Well... could you at least tell me how the... story, originated?"

"There is a legend," Masih began slowly, "that hundreds of years ago, a man found the secret to immortality. He died many times, but every time his followers brought him back, through his 'secret ingredient' to everlasting life. If he aged too much, he'd minister whatever it was to himself and returned to his prime once more."

"With so many years to live, and already having a brilliant mind, this man... learned many things. He created a loyal group of followers. He became feared by the criminal underworld, as he sought to bring them all to justice. But all those men... who went to learn from him... they were never the same."

"Ra's al Ghul often found followers in lost men, men without a path. There were very few who held the same interests he did before they joined him, but it was those men who, more often than not, became his most prized students. But once one started down the path Ra's al Ghul offered... they could never turn back."

Castle absorbed all this information in. "What happened to him?"

Sinking back into his chair, Masih thought for a moment, trying to recall the story as best he could. "According to the legend, Ra's al Ghul disappeared. Went underground, his group of followers dismantled. And that was it. He became a story, a legend, and that was that."

"Until the ring was stolen?" Castle guessed.

"There were those that were certain that the theft meant he had returned from the dead once more... Others believed it was done by fanatics who wished to revive the legend of his immortality," Masih explained.

"Was the ring what made him... 'immortal?''" Castle wondered. "According to the legend," he quickly added.

"No, no. The ring did not give him his immortality. But it is rumored that the stone is from wherever he received his regenerative youth."

Castle thought to Ducard for a moment. Could he be, as Masih had put it, a 'fanatic'? He obviously couldn't have stolen it, he would have been a child fifty years ago. Was his 'League of Shadows' was simply a group of more Ra's al Ghul fanatics?

'But how did he get the ring?'

"Mr. Masih... does 'ra's al ghul' translate into English? Does it mean anything?"

Masih nodded.

"It means 'demon's head.'"

Castle sat in his hotel room, thinking to himself. He tried to write before, but quickly given up. There was too much on his mind.

He thought through all that Masih had told him. The man fully believed that Ra's al Ghul was a legend. Yet, there were no records of that legend on the internet. The ring, a part of the 'legend,' was real, and Castle couldn't think why anyone would create a story like that, just for the ring. There were too many details about Ra's al Ghul, so much so that the ring became one of those details, rather than the main point of the back story.

While Castle still didn't believe in this whole 'immortal' thing, he thought maybe the name Ra's al Ghul was maybe more of a title... Passed on through generations perhaps. It would make sense, after all, how else could Ra's al Ghul be 'alive' for so long?

But then there was Ducard...

Why would he have the ring? He said he represented the man Ra's al Ghul, and yet was wearing his ring. Proof? A clue?

Or just a trick?

Ra's al Ghul meant 'demon's head'. The ring was called Demon's Head. It belonged to Ra's al Ghul, yet Ducard- Ra's al Ghul's 'representative'- had it. Something wasn't adding up. It was like a puzzle or a riddle, and Castle learned at a young age that the answer to a riddle was always the simplest thing. And the simplest thing was...

'Henri Ducard is Ra's al Ghul.'

It was a bit out there... but it made perfect sense to Castle. Why give away your identity to someone you didn't know was trustworthy? Why give people a face to go with the name 'feared by the criminal underworld'? By saying he was merely a representative, he could give orders out, and claim they had come from his superior.

The man was smart. He knew things, and could do things. He fought ten men, single-handedly, and won. He orchestrated Alexis's breakout from the high security bunker. He was able to track them down in hours, while it took the FBI days. He somehow found Castle's real name, information excluded even from the 'Richard Castle fan site.'

Castle had no doubt of Ducard's abilities.

Less than a week later, Castle was back in New York. All leads he had were dead ends, and nothing new popped. But, now that he had a guess as to who Ra's al Ghul, he refused to give up. The mystery writer in him wanted to find the resolution.

It eventually occurred to him that if Ducard had been serious in his offer, he'd do everything to accommodate Castle. With his daughter being so young, he couldn't leave her. And with public image being very, well, public - his disappearance would be noted. No, if Ducard seriously was going to train him, he'd stay close by. So Castle began searching for abandoned properties, somewhere someone could hide away in and remain completely under the radar.

And one day during his internet search, a victorious smile came onto his face.

"Bingo."

It was an old building, decrepit and rundown. Compared to all the other Hampton's' properties, this one was extremely secluded and well-hidden. It had taken Castle a few turns to find the road/driveway leading to the place. But he finally found it, found them... all he had to do was go inside.

If it were only that simple.

Castle had his reservations, as any man would, and began questioning himself. He questioned his motives, how it would affect those he loved... Whether or not it would change him, like Masih said it had to many others before him.

"I'm not safe out there Daddy..."

Taking a breath, Castle got out of his car, ready to face whatever came next. As expected the door was lock, but that was nothing Castle couldn't handle - he had researched (and practiced) lock-picking for a Derrick Storm book. As he worked, Castle couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. Normally, he could chalk it up to his overactive imagination. But when dealing with someone like Ra's and his 'League'... Castle was certain that, this time, his suspicions were spot on.

Finally unlocking the door, Castle stood from his kneeling position. He only heard the soft thud of feet touching the ground before instinct kicked in. Managing to avoid the first blow, Castle realized he was face-to-face with a freaking ninja, and remained on the defensive.

Outward block. Step back. Dodge. Block. Block.

It probably wasn't even a minute when the ninja got the upper hand and knocked Castle out. The ninja stared down at him for a moment, noticing the sharp similarities between the writer and the writer's father. Removing the mask, Henri Ducard nodded in approval at Castle.

He had found his newest student.


	3. Training

Castle looked up at the stone building before him, squinting against the bright sun. The taxi which had dropped him off was already out of sight, and left a cloud of dust behind. It was hot, but the writer was doing a fair job of ignoring it. He was too focused on the matter at hand; the museum's curator had agreed to meet with him, in about 10 minutes, to show him around and answer any questions. And luckily for Castle, the man spoke English.

Explaining to his mother, Martha, why he would be gone was hard. Saying goodbye to his little girl, even though it was only for a week, was even harder. But Castle pushed through it and got on a plane, flying out to the Middle East. Arabia, to be exact. To where the Demon's Head originated. Tightening his hold on his backpack, Castle let out a breath.

If he was going to find Ra's al Ghul, and his 'League of Shadows', he had to start somewhere.

Climbing up the steps, Castle entered the museum, noticing with subconscious relief that there was air conditioning. He barely had a chance to begin his search for the curator's office, when he heard his name being called out. Turning around with slight surprise, Castle saw a short and stubby Arabic man walk towards him. "Mister Castle?" he repeated, his accent heavy.

"Uh, yes," Castle nodded. "You must be Mister Masih."

The man only nodded, giving Castle a welcoming smile. "Welcome to Arabia. I trust you had no trouble finding your way here?"

"No trouble at all," Castle lied, remembering the very... explicit... words, one man had for him at the airport's taxi line. He followed Mister Masih down the hall, and they began making small talk.

"I can't thank you enough for agreeing to meet with me, Mr. Masih," Castle said at last, trying to steer the conversation to the subject he actually wanted to talk about. Mister Masih simply laughed.

"No trouble Mr. Castle. My wife and I are big fans of your books. To have you do research here is a big honor." Castle simply nodded. That was the reason he gave to his mother about why he was leaving. Book research. Of course, they both knew that he could simply call or find everything on the internet, but for some reason Martha wasn't being nosy. A bit uncharacteristic of her, but Castle was grateful all the same. "So what exactly did you want to know about?"

Deciding it was better to get to the point, Castle pulled out a folded piece of paper - a printed picture of the Demon's Head. And he did not miss the paleness that struck Masih's features when he saw the picture. "Your website said that the ring went missing about fifty years ago? Could you tell me about the theft?"

Masih shook his head. "All I'm sure of is that it was stolen, rather, retrieved... by its rightful owner... Ra's al Ghul." The Arabic man saw the flicker of recognition in Castle's eyes, and smiled ruefully. "You are not here to do research for a book, are you Mr. Castle?"

A few minutes later, the two men were in Masih's office, the door locked. "What is it you wish to know about Ra's al Ghul, Mr. Castle?" he questioned.

"How do I find him?" Castle asked, not at all surprised when Masih began to laugh.

"Mr. Castle, Ra's al Ghul is a myth."

"There are no records of that 'myth,'" Castle said simply, noticing Masih falter. "And didn't you just say that he took the ring?"

Masih waved a hand dismissively. "Mr. Castle, I run a museum. Encouraging myths and legends are a part of the job. It interests people and keeps them coming back."

Castle could see that the man was adamant, and did not believe that Ra's al Ghul was real. "Well... could you at least tell me how the... story, originated?"

"There is a legend," Masih began slowly, "that hundreds of years ago, a man found the secret to immortality. He died many times, but every time his followers brought him back, through his 'secret ingredient' to everlasting life. If he aged too much, he'd minister whatever it was to himself and returned to his prime once more."

"With so many years to live, and already having a brilliant mind, this man... learned many things. He created a loyal group of followers. He became feared by the criminal underworld, as he sought to bring them all to justice. But all those men... who went to learn from him... they were never the same."

"Ra's al Ghul often found followers in lost men, men without a path. There were very few who held the same interests he did before they joined him, but it was those men who, more often than not, became his most prized students. But once one started down the path Ra's al Ghul offered... they could never turn back."

Castle absorbed all this information in. "What happened to him?"

Sinking back into his chair, Masih thought for a moment, trying to recall the story as best he could. "According to the legend, Ra's al Ghul disappeared. Went underground, his group of followers dismantled. And that was it. He became a story, a legend, and that was that."

"Until the ring was stolen?" Castle guessed.

"There were those that were certain that the theft meant he had returned from the dead once more... Others believed it was done by fanatics who wished to revive the legend of his immortality," Masih explained.

"Was the ring what made him... 'immortal?''" Castle wondered. "According to the legend," he quickly added.

"No, no. The ring did not give him his immortality. But it is rumored that the stone is from wherever he received his regenerative youth."

Castle thought to Ducard for a moment. Could he be, as Masih had put it, a 'fanatic'? He obviously couldn't have stolen it, he would have been a child fifty years ago. Was his 'League of Shadows' was simply a group of more Ra's al Ghul fanatics?

'But how did he get the ring?'

"Mr. Masih... does 'ra's al ghul' translate into English? Does it mean anything?"

Masih nodded.

"It means 'demon's head.'"

Castle sat in his hotel room, thinking to himself. He tried to write before, but quickly given up. There was too much on his mind.

He thought through all that Masih had told him. The man fully believed that Ra's al Ghul was a legend. Yet, there were no records of that legend on the internet. The ring, a part of the 'legend,' was real, and Castle couldn't think why anyone would create a story like that, just for the ring. There were too many details about Ra's al Ghul, so much so that the ring became one of those details, rather than the main point of the back story.

While Castle still didn't believe in this whole 'immortal' thing, he thought maybe the name Ra's al Ghul was maybe more of a title... Passed on through generations perhaps. It would make sense, after all, how else could Ra's al Ghul be 'alive' for so long?

But then there was Ducard...

Why would he have the ring? He said he represented the man Ra's al Ghul, and yet was wearing his ring. Proof? A clue?

Or just a trick?

Ra's al Ghul meant 'demon's head'. The ring was called Demon's Head. It belonged to Ra's al Ghul, yet Ducard- Ra's al Ghul's 'representative'- had it. Something wasn't adding up. It was like a puzzle or a riddle, and Castle learned at a young age that the answer to a riddle was always the simplest thing. And the simplest thing was...

'Henri Ducard is Ra's al Ghul.'

It was a bit out there... but it made perfect sense to Castle. Why give away your identity to someone you didn't know was trustworthy? Why give people a face to go with the name 'feared by the criminal underworld'? By saying he was merely a representative, he could give orders out, and claim they had come from his superior.

The man was smart. He knew things, and could do things. He fought ten men, single-handedly, and won. He orchestrated Alexis's breakout from the high security bunker. He was able to track them down in hours, while it took the FBI days. He somehow found Castle's real name, information excluded even from the 'Richard Castle fan site.'

Castle had no doubt of Ducard's abilities.

Less than a week later, Castle was back in New York. All leads he had were dead ends, and nothing new popped. But, now that he had a guess as to who Ra's al Ghul, he refused to give up. The mystery writer in him wanted to find the resolution.

It eventually occurred to him that if Ducard had been serious in his offer, he'd do everything to accommodate Castle. With his daughter being so young, he couldn't leave her. And with public image being very, well, public - his disappearance would be noted. No, if Ducard seriously was going to train him, he'd stay close by. So Castle began searching for abandoned properties, somewhere someone could hide away in and remain completely under the radar.

And one day during his internet search, a victorious smile came onto his face.

"Bingo."

It was an old building, decrepit and rundown. Compared to all the other Hampton's' properties, this one was extremely secluded and well-hidden. It had taken Castle a few turns to find the road/driveway leading to the place. But he finally found it, found them... all he had to do was go inside.

If it were only that simple.

Castle had his reservations, as any man would, and began questioning himself. He questioned his motives, how it would affect those he loved... Whether or not it would change him, like Masih said it had to many others before him.

"I'm not safe out there Daddy..."

Taking a breath, Castle got out of his car, ready to face whatever came next. As expected the door was lock, but that was nothing Castle couldn't handle - he had researched (and practiced) lock-picking for a Derrick Storm book. As he worked, Castle couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. Normally, he could chalk it up to his overactive imagination. But when dealing with someone like Ra's and his 'League'... Castle was certain that, this time, his suspicions were spot on.

Finally unlocking the door, Castle stood from his kneeling position. He only heard the soft thud of feet touching the ground before instinct kicked in. Managing to avoid the first blow, Castle realized he was face-to-face with a freaking ninja, and remained on the defensive.

Outward block. Step back. Dodge. Block. Block.

It probably wasn't even a minute when the ninja got the upper hand and knocked Castle out. The ninja stared down at him for a moment, noticing the sharp similarities between the writer and the writer's father. Removing the mask, Henri Ducard nodded in approval at Castle.

He had found his newest student.


	4. Swords and Faimly

Despite being a great storyteller, Castle always seemed to have trouble lying to his parents when he was growing up. Even now, as a grown man, he found it difficult to continuously lie to his mother. She had a talent for seeing right through him, and no amount of training Castle went through would be able to change that.

Martha never brought it up. She didn't comment when he left the loft at strange hours. But Castle could see the look on her face, the glint in her eyes... It was the same look Castle had growing up, before learning his dad was a spy.

But Martha handled it so much better than he had. She stayed home to watch Alexis, left food for Castle if he got back super late, and helped around the house. Castle considered hiring a housekeeper to help his mother out, but thought better of it. Said housekeeper could easily tell the paparazzi that Richard Castle was sneaking out of the house at odd hours, doing who knows what. And that was something Castle wanted to keep  _off_  of page 6.

So, with the idea of a housekeeper nixed, Castle simply did the best he could. Cleaning when he could, taking care of Alexis (the priority... always the priority), writing his  _Derrick Storm_ books, and making sure his mother was able to live as comfortably as possible. It wasn't easy, and Castle didn't like the position he was putting his mother in.

He prayed it would all be worth it in the end.

* * *

The clashing of swords echoed in the forest surrounding the League's base. The two men rarely made a noise, as they kept trying to take the other by surprise. "Always mind your surroundings," Ducard told Castle yet again before they began. They split up afterwards, hiding in the shadows of the trees, waiting to see who would get the upper hand.

Ducard nearly took him out, but Castle rolled away at the last moment, then the sparring began. Now, they were in a clearing, out in the open, with nowhere to hide.

"Focus," Ducard chastised when Castle's form became sloppy. "Never let your mind wander. You can't change the past, and you can't control the future. All that matters is the present."

Snapping back to the 'right now', Castle allowed his movements to be controlled by his instinct rather than his mind. He fought Ducard with better precision and renewed vigor, and a full fight was now on.

While the men weren't going to kill each other, there was still something heart-pumping and adrenaline-rushing about swinging swords at each other. They swung and slashed, ducked and blocked, side-stepped and advanced. For the most part, they were even. While Ducard had years of experience over Castle, Castle was creative and he used that creativity to catch his opponents off guard.

The writer lunged backwards as Ducard slashed at his throat; the blade ended up inches away from him, rather than millimeters. He allowed himself to be pushed into the defensive, as Ducard slashed and prodded and stabbed relentlessly. For each attack, Castle blocked or dodged with ease. In fact, there were multiple instances where he could have broken the onslaught of hits, but he remained in his position. He was waiting, looking for the perfect opportunity to strike.

Of course, Ducard's form was flawless, and he really left no weak spots or vulnerabilities. After all, there was a reason he was the teacher and Castle the student. But Castle learned, a lot in fact. And there was always that one instance during a fight where a weak spot was exposed. Castle knew this... He just had to wait for it to appear.

Lasting against Ducard's offensive strike would be good, too.

"You cannot let your opponent bear down on you like this," Ducard scolded, not easing up on his attacks. Castle didn't need him to, because he finally saw his opening. He ducked under Ducard's sword as he swung, and punched the man in the gut. Ducard was surprised, and that surprise lasted long enough for Castle to quickly step back and push the offending sword away.

For the first time in their duel, Castle could taste victory. Kicking Ducard in the chest, he knocked the man down and brought his sword to Ducard's neck. "Yield," Castle ordered, puzzled when a barely there smirk/smile came onto Ducard's face.

"I would... if it were not for the fact that my sword is now pressed against your femoral artery." Castle's eyes widened at that, and he looked down seeing that, yes, the blade was in perfect position to make a fatal slice into his leg. Grimacing, Castle removed his own sword and backed away in defeat.

"You did well Richard," Ducard assured, seeing the look of defeat on his student's face.

"You mean I did better than last time," Castle countered. The last time they dueled, Ducard had managed to disarm Castle. The instance before that, he found Castle before they even reached the clearing. Castle's pride suffered quite a bit after that. So, he continued working hard to ensure it wouldn't happen again.

Ducard motioned for them to sit and rest. Waiting till he knew the writer's attention was undivided, he spoke up. "Richard... I have been doing this for most of my life," he began. "I have had years of training. No one expects you to be able to best me just yet." Castle ducked his head, knowing it was a true statement. Ducard paused before speaking again. "Besides," he continued, "you have only been with us for a year. Yet, you have improved faster than any other student I have seen in my lifetime."

Castle smiled at this, and shrugged. "I was always a fast learner," he agreed.

"There was once another man like you within our ranks," Ducard stated after a moment. "Strong. Creative. Determined." Ducard nodded to himself. "He was one of the greatest students I have ever trained... Truly an unstoppable force."

Castle heard the nostalgia in Ducard's voice, and was genuinely curious. "Who was he?" Castle questioned.

Ducard closed his eyes. "A very good friend of mine," was the quiet reply. In fact, it was so quiet that Castle didn't catch the underlying hints of anger in Ducard's tone.

"What happened to him?"

At this, Ducard's eyes shot open, a fierce expression Castle had never seen before on his face. "He betrayed us, all of us. So he was excommunicated from the League." Ducard shook his head. "He was never seen again."

Castle, realizing that it was a touchy subject, decided to remain silent and not broach it any further. Maybe someday in the future, he could learn more about this great student-turned-traitor. His mind was already creating multiple stories, but one question stuck in his head. If this man betrayed the League, a group dedicated to fighting crime and injustice, did that make him a criminal?

* * *

"Mother, I'm heading out," Castle called out, shouldering his backpack. "I should be back by tomorrow morning." Martha remained silent, poking at her food. Castle looked at her uneasily - she usually said 'goodbye' or something, or at the very least  _look_  at him. This... this was different.

After moments of silence, he gave up. He made to leave, reaching the door when Martha finally spoke. She called his name, and that was it. Just his first name. Her voice was soft, the tone worrying Castle. Looking back, he saw his mother had set her silverware down. But her eyes... they were red-rimmed and filled with frightened concern.

"What are you doing?" she asked. Castle's brow furrowed.

"What?"

"I want to know what you're doing," Martha stated. "Where you keep running off to all the time."

Castle sat his bag down and went to sit next to her. He knew this conversation would come eventually; to be honest, he had been expecting it to come sooner than thing. "Mother... I can't really explain it," he began truthfully. "Not yet, at least. But I promise you, I know what I'm doing."

Martha leaned in, grasping Castle's hands. "Richard, this isn't something new," she said. "For a year, you've been... different. Secretive. And I've kept my mouth shut. I didn't make a fuss."

Castle sighed. "Mother-"

"I'm just worried about you Richard," Martha said. "I can't help it."

Castle squeezed his mother's hands comfortingly. "I know Mother. I know. But I promise, I'm ok." He smiled his charming Castle smile. "I just need you to trust me on this, ok?"

Martha seemed less than pleased with the idea, but she nodded. "You remember what happened to your father?" she asked after a moment. Castle tensed a bit.

"You know I do," he whispered. Martha looked at him with sad eyes, gentle cupping his face.

"Don't do what he did Richard," she pleaded. "I can't lose both of you. And Alexis can't lose her father."

Castle swallowed roughly, turning his face away. He allowed himself to calm down before speaking again. "I'll be back by noon tomorrow," he stated.

He walked out the door, closing it behind him.

He never heard his mother's worried sigh.

* * *

The drive to the Hamptons seemed to take longer than usual. Castle felt weary and exhausted, the heavy conversation with his mother taking a toll on him. He'd thought about it before, how his actions would affect his mother and daughter. Alexis, still young and naïve, honestly believed her dad was working, like the other kids at school had parents who worked. She either forgot or didn't realize that a writer didn't necessarily need to leave their house to work. But Martha...

Castle had his suspicions about her thoughts. But he had no idea that her concerns ran that deep, where she feared that Castle would end up like his father. Pinching his the bridge of his nose briefly, Castle thought back to the last time he saw his father. He was heading out for another mission, his last one before retirement.

Of course, that would be the mission that ended up taking the spy's life.

The CIA gave their sincerest condolences to Martha and Richard, and vanished from their life completely. When Castle wanted to do research for  _Derrick Storm_ , they didn't make a fuss, because of who Castle's father was. But other than that, Casa da Castle was CIA-free. Now, however, Castle was bringing another 'group' into his family's lives.

And, looking back now, he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

He thought again of the dangers he would face in the future, if he did end up fully joining the League. Ducard said it was only a matter of time before his 'final test', which would prove to Ra's al Ghul his 'commitment to justice.' That did nothing to hint at what this 'final test' would be, but Castle felt that he was prepared. The past year or so, he had learned so much, and Ducard commented on just how much he improved. After the test, if he passed, he'd become a member of the League of Shadows.

But whether to stay with the League, or to walk away...

That was something Castle was beginning to question.


	5. You Are Ready

_**November 9, 2005** _

Another successful  _Derrick Storm_  book meant more attention on him from the press. Every time he so much as sneezed, they were there. Before, Castle had taken it all gracefully. This time around, however, he was putting his training to good use... The look on any of the paparazzi's faces when he suddenly disappeared never failed to bring a smile to the writer's face. Paula wasn't happy with his avoiding the press, as any mention of his name would help boost sales and his popularity. Castle shrugged her off each time; it wouldn't be good for anyone if someone followed him to the Hamptons. And Ducard would have his head if they were discovered.

But if the press wasn't talking about him, they were talking about the new but mysterious hero over in Metropolis. Apparently, this hero (they were calling him the Blur... the  _Blur_ , of all things!) had an arsenal of superpowers; from what the news channels had reported, he was super fast, super strong, and super awesome.

Ok, maybe the last one was from Castle. But he couldn't help it, this was something that he had hoping for. Someone to step up and protect the innocent from the evilness in this world. While this superdude was in the media (to a certain degree), Castle was content to work with the League in a more behind-the-scenes kind of way. His face and name were already on page 6...

He didn't need to be on the front page, too.

* * *

"A criminal is not complicated," Ducard stated. The two men walked down the stairs to the hidden base, both dressed in the League uniform. "What you really fear is inside yourself. You fear your own power. You fear your anger... your drive to do great, terrible things." Ducard turned to Castle, the two of them standing in an empty room. "Now, you must journey inwards. You are ready."

At this, Castle blinked, brows furrowed. Was this that final test Ducard mentioned before? But Ducard was talking about fear, not justice or commitment.

"To conquer fear, you must become fear." Ducard was speaking, and from his tone, Castle determined that, no, this wasn't the test. "You must bask in the fear of other men."

The older man stepped back, pulling a mask over his face as a group of other ninjas came out of nowhere. They surrounded Ducard, and they all looked alike; they all wore the uniform. "Men fear most what they cannot see," Ducard's voice spoke as Castle pulled his own mask down and walked forward, staying focused.

It was like the forest exercise... only instead of trees, it was people. In perfect unison, the ninjas pulled out their swords and stepped back, creating a path for Castle. "You have to become a terrible thought... a wrath," Ducard went on as Castle pulled out his own sword, continuing to step forward. He remained quiet, listening for any small noise or sound-

"You have to become an idea!" Ducard was suddenly in front of him, the two clashing their swords until Ducard disappeared as the ninjas moved again.

Deciding on different tactic, Castle stood with the posed ninjas, mocking their stance. And he waited. From the corner of his eye, he could see slight movement.

' _3...2...1...now!_ '

He launched at Ducard, who was a bit surprised (but not that much), and they sparred for moments until Ducard disappeared yet again. Castle, feeling a small sting, looked at his arm. There was a small cut, the sword having gone through the fabric and marking the skin. He berated himself for it, but paused when an idea came to him.

Taking care not to cut too wide or too deep, Castle sent a silent apology to the two men he marked.

Ducard was quiet as he carefully crept through the aisles of men. Richard had managed to take him by surprise moments ago - he was learning well. But, he allowed himself to be marked, which would no doubt cost him dearly in this exercise. The slight difference between Richard and all the other men would give away his position.

There he was, staying perfectly still, no doubt to attempt to take him by surprise again. Ducard quickly kicked the back of his knee to bring him down, and placed his sword close to Castle's neck. Pulling off his own mask, Ducard lectured him, "You cannot leave any sign-"

The feeling of cold steel on the back of his neck brought him up short.

"I haven't."

Castle stood behind Ducard, ripping off his own mask.

Ducard smiled in pride.

* * *

"You're leaving?" Castle repeated. It had been two weeks since Castle successfully completed the exercise of being 'invisible.' Training had continued as normal, so when Castle arrived this morning and was told the League was headed to Europe, it was a surprise. A big surprise.

"There is a matter that has come to our attention," Ducard explained. "Ra's al Ghul insists that it be dealt with immediately." Castle's brow furrowed, and Ducard placed a hand on his shoulder. "Richard, I wouldn't ask you to leave your daughter," he said sincerely. "Besides, Ra's al Ghul requests that you stay in New York."

That caught Castle's attention. "Why? And what about the test?"

Ducard paused. "While you will not be able to approach the challenge for some time, Ra's al Ghul has been kept informed of your progress. He insists upon you doing this... And this is your city," Ducard went on. "You are a favored son of Manhattan. Ra's al Ghul wishes for you to complete some of his work here, until we return."

"His work?" Castle questioned.

"You are ideally placed to strike at the heart of criminality... New York has become a breeding ground for suffering and injustice. It is our job to correct this, by any means." Ducard looked at Richard closely. "This is  _the most_  important function of the League of Shadows."

Castle nodded in understand. "And he trusts me with this?" He never fully let go of the suspicion that Henri Ducard and Ra's al Ghul were one and the same - the fact that he had never seen Ra's was just another piece of evidence to him - and wanted to see if he was correct.

Ducard merely smiled. "Immensely... You will hear from us soon, and often, for your tasks." Castle merely nodded, turning to leave. He walked about five feet when Ducard spoke again. "And Richard?" Castle stopped, turning to see Ducard looking at him.

"I know you will do all that is necessary to fight injustice."

* * *

A news report that night briefly talked about a 'freak accident' of sorts in the Hamptons; an old and abandoned house caught fire somehow, and burned to the ground. There was absolutely nothing left, as the house collapsed over the foundations and was an utter mess.

Part of Castle cringed at the thought of the League committing arson. But the other part of him acknowledged the necessity; they were a secret society, and needed to remain that way. The fire would destroy any and all evidence they had been there. And with the house being as isolated as it was, no one had been hurt.

Neat and clean.

Musing to himself, Castle thought about Ducard's words from today. He promised the League of Shadows would be States-side in about a year or so, to fulfill their mission in New York. But Ra's al Ghul wanted Castle to get a head start in their fight against crime. ' _Using any means necessary..._ '

Ra's al Ghul was a man criminals feared. A man who destroyed injustice and fought crime; it was his life's work. There was a problem with crime in New York, everyone knew it. So it was no shock that Ra's planned to focus his resources there.

Castle had already begun doing his research on where to start. A Captain Roy Montgomery of the NYPD... he was a cop that didn't back down and worked hard for justice. He'd be a good ally. And Castle already planned to visit an old friend to talk about equipment he might need.

But right now, Castle couldn't focus on the city. With all that had happened the past year due to his odd hours and secrecy... Castle had to focus on his family.

* * *

He surprised both Martha and Alexis by sending the two off on a Spa Day. After they returned, the family went together to watch a Broadway show, which both girls enjoyed immensely. Martha recognized the efforts Richard was putting into this day, and accepted his silent apology. Alexis, on the other hand, was simply content to be spending the whole day with her dad and grandmother. A family day. The twelve-year-old couldn't stop smiling.

Dinner was at at the family's favorite Italian restaurant, filled with conversation and laughter. As they left, Castle couldn't have been happier.

Alexis pleaded for them to go for a walk in Central Park, and they'd been having such a good day so far, why end it now? So the three of them walked, with Martha telling them some old tale of her earlier acting days that had Alexis in fits of laughter.

They went to turn to head home, when a man stood in front of them, a gun in his hand. "Make a sound and I'll shoot." Martha gently pushed Alexis behind her, trying to calm her quickening heart rate. "Give me the jewelry! And your wallets!"

They stood in a more isolated part of the park; it was just the four of them.

Castle stood in front of his mother and daughter, deathly serious. "Put the gun down," he warned.

"I've got the gun, I give the orders!" the thief argued, moving the gun's aim to Castle heart.

"Trust me," Castle said lowly, "you  _don't_  want to do that."

"I think I-"

Castle grabbed the hand holding the gun, and twisted the man's arm. The pain caused him to drop the weapon, but he would not be defeated. He swung a fist to punch Castle, but Castle blocked it, elbowing the man in the face. The blow knocked the man out, and he fell in a heap.

Castle took a step back, then looked at Martha and Alexis. His mother's eyes were wide with disbelief, before realization began to sink in. Alexis had her jaw dropped open.

"Dad..." she said, her voice gaining volume, "you kicked that guy's butt!"

It was then that Castle realized his secret was somewhat half-blown.

Looking at the robber, then back to the girls, Castle was met with an unnerving glare from his mother. He let out a nervous 'heh'.

"I can explain."

* * *

_**November 24, 2005** _

_**Location Unknown** _

Ducard was sitting in a dim office, looking over a report from some of his scouts, when a newspaper was slapped down in front of him. "Another success from the writer."

Ducard looked up from his work, to the newspaper, the page it was opened to held positive reviews for Castle's  _Storm Rising._  He looked from the paper to the person who stood in front of him.

"He's keeping his cover," he stated, waving his hand as if he were brushing off the topic.

"Bringing in someone of his social standing was a bad idea," the other insisted.

There was silence for a moment, until Ducard spoke again. "You know why he is here."

"Yes, I do... but you seem to keep forgetting."

"You question me?" There was an underlying growl in Ducard's voice. The other person seemed unfazed.

"I don't trust him. He is not fully committed to our cause."

"He will be."

"You do not know that. For all you know, he will be just like his father." Ducard closed his eyes and rubbed his temple. "We can find someone else. There is more than enough time and plenty of other men just as 'worthy' as Richard... We should just kill him and be done with it."

"No."

Ducard didn't yell. He didn't shout. Yet, his dangerous tone was enough to make his companion back down. "Richard Castle may be  _his_  son, but he is his own man, with his own ideas. He does not see the world as his father does." Ducard looked at the newspaper with Castle's picture on it. "He is the one we have waited for..." Ducard looked up, nodding in self-sufficiency.

"He will change the world in ways we cannot imagine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Check out the next story in the series, Batman Begins.
> 
> Katrina


End file.
